


you guys call it pressure (we just call it life)

by polkadot



Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: M/M, Sports, rookies in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9307202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polkadot/pseuds/polkadot
Summary: Zeke gets in a fender-bender the Wednesday before their first playoff game. Dak shows his concern (in more than one way).





	

Zeke comes into the locker room laughing.

“Where you been, man?” Dak asks. “You forget to set your alarm this morning? Not like it’s an important week or anything.”

It’s a Wednesday morning in January, and they’re still playing football. And football in January means the playoffs; means hyperbolic newspaper headlines and never-ending media interviews, sky-high hopes and kids grinning proudly up at Dak in ‘Prescott’ jerseys. Football in January is what every player in this league longs for – and he and Zeke have got it first try. 

Dak’s not sure it’s all really sunk in yet. Maybe in the offseason he’ll have time to think. For now, all he knows is that he’s a rookie quarterback leading the best team in football, and all he can do is take it one day at a time and put his best out on the field every time he suits up.

Usually Zeke’s right there with him, but today he’s shaking his head, still grinning. “My alarm’s just fine. Me – well, maybe I shouldn’t be driving at 7 in the morning. That’s sleepin’ time, not drivin’.”

Dak’s stomach turns. “What happened?”

Zeke’s stripping, methodical and fast. “Don’t worry, dad,” he says, muffled in his shirt. “You can barely see the dent.”

“There’s a dent?” Dak says. This is not reassuring. “You got in a wreck?”

He can see the headlines now. “Star Cowboys Rookie Crashes His Car on Eve of Playoff Debut.” “Ezekiel Elliott in Wreck – Was Alcohol Involved?” “Cowboys Running Back Doubtful For Sunday After Car Crash.”

Zeke reaches out to pat his head, casual and heavy. “Relax. It’s not a wreck unless salad's a full dinner. There’s like, one lil’ dent in the fender, that’s all.”

Dak steps back from the space in front of their lockers to look him over, dragging his eyes with pointed weight and skepticism over the broad expanse of Zeke’s body. He doesn’t _see_ broken bones or anything obvious. Whiplash, though. Whiplash could totally be a thing.

“Stop checking me out,” Zeke says, raising his hands in surrender. “I promise, I’m one-hundred-percent okay. This wasn't no Cam Newton two back fractures kind of crash.”

“You’re sure?” Dak asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Man, I’ve been in bigger collisions on the _field_ ,” Zeke says, grinning his mega-watt grin. “Gonna take more than one little dent in my fender to derail this train.”

This train, this crazy ride that’s taken them to stardom in one dizzy year. This train, that’s made them the toast of Dallas and beyond, that’s propelled them to the playoffs and shows no sign of stopping. This train, this perfect year.

Dak isn’t superstitious, not really, but he likes to keep his eye on the present, avoid dreaming too much about the future. He’s said it all season. But now – now it’s the playoffs, and the future’s here.

“As long as it’s the car’s fender that’s dented, and not yours,” he says, succumbing to Zeke’s playful mood.

“You gotta stop looking at my fender,” Zeke says, and winks at him. 

Dak sighs.

~ 

“Cowboys’ Ezekiel Elliott uninjured in minor car crash,” Zeke reads. “See, the headlines aren’t that bad.”

“At least you’re not the type to get the ‘NFL star shoots himself in ass in nightclub’ headlines,” Dak allows, leaning his head against the back of the couch. It’s been a long day, and he has just about enough mental energy left to contemplate his ceiling, and no more.

“They’d probably say ‘buttock’, not ass,” Zeke says, grinning at him. “But yeah. That’s not how I roll. Just get myself in little fender-benders, that’s all.”

It’s funny now - now that Zeke got checked out by a strict team doctor, just to be sure, and now that Dak’s seen how tiny the dent is. And Zeke’s right, as far as collisions go they’ve experienced their fair share on the field (though Dak hasn’t so much this year, thanks to being protected by one of the best offensive lines in football). 

Still. It wasn’t funny this morning when Dak’s stomach plummeted. “Drive more careful tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Zeke says. 

They’ve got basketball on the TV, a low hum, but otherwise the room is dim. The light from the TV plays on Zeke’s face, shadow and glint. Dak watches him, watches the way his smile stretches, disappearing into his beard.

“How about,” Zeke says, moving closer and throwing a casual arm up along the back of the couch, “we solve this particular problem by having you drive tomorrow?”

Dak tips his head back, suppressing a shiver at the feeling of Zeke’s fingers curling against his scalp. “You wanna crash here, huh?”

Zeke moves closer, obvious and sure, his grin still irresistible. “Well, I figured on doin’ more than just crashing…”

“I thought we said no sex during the playoffs,” Dak says, because they _did_ , though look, he’s twenty-three years old and Zeke is incredibly hot, he’s not gonna push too hard on this one. “We said we’d save our energy for the field.”

Zeke is closer, leaning in, blocking the light. Dak wets his lips, watching Zeke’s eyes follow the motion. 

“Yeah, we said that,” Zeke says, putting two fingers under Dak’s chin to tip his face up. “But hey, the playoffs haven’t technically started yet. Not until Sunday.”

Sunday, when Rodgers and company roll into town to try and take them out. The Packers aren’t easy, but Dak’s confident they can take them. 

With Zeke at his side, he’s confident the ’Boys can take anyone.

“That’s just semantics,” he says, hearing the way his voice has roughened, with Zeke nearly in his lap. “Playoffs started last week.”

Zeke nods, all sunny agreeableness, then climbs into Dak’s lap, straddling him, taking some of the weight on his knees but leaving enough. “Okay. You’re the quarterback, boss. What you say goes.” 

“Now you’re not playing fair,” Dak says, but he’s smiling too.

He’s always liked this, liked feeling a little pinned down, able to grind up, overwhelmed in all the good ways. He hooks a foot behind Zeke’s ass, pulling him in closer.

Zeke leans in to nip under his chin – Dak hears his own embarrassing noise. “I always play fair,” Zeke says against Dak’s skin. “Not my fault that I know your weak spots.”

“I’m reliably informed by a dozen sportswriters that I don’t have weak spots,” Dak says, winding fingers in Zeke’s hair hard enough to pull, loving the way Zeke’s eyes slide shut, the way his mouth falls open a little.

“Cocky,” Zeke says when he gets his breath back.

Dak angles his hips up against Zeke’s, biting his lip at the goodness of the friction. “Yeah? You like me cocky?”

“I like you cocky,” Zeke says, and kisses him, open-mouthed and lazy.

It’ll get fast soon. Three months in, they still make each other just as hot as they did in the beginning, that first day that a play-tussle over Playstation turned into something more. It feels sometimes like Zeke’s rewired Dak’s brain, left it full of nothing but the playbook and the curve of Zeke’s smile, the laughter in his eyes and the filthiness of his mouth. Dak’s living a charmed life right now, rookie quarterback on the best team in football, headed all the way to the Super Bowl, and no small part of it is the man in his arms, both on and off the field.

But before it gets fast, they can take it slow, here in Dak’s dim living room, Zeke above him solid and sure.

“You like me every way,” Dak says, scratching his fingernails through Zeke’s hair. “Guess it’s good I like you too.”

“So I can stay?”

Without fail, Zeke always manages to steal all the covers when he sleeps over. Dak wakes up at 5 a.m. freezing his ass off, and has to poke Zeke eighteen times before he’ll wake up enough to grumpily give some back. Plus he eats all of Dak’s favorite cereal. 

“You can stay,” Dak says.

Zeke kisses him, then pulls away, grinning. “Might as well get us started on round one, then.”

Dak opens his mouth to say that round one is all the rounds tonight, because fuck, he’s got to save energy for football, but somewhere along the line his brain short-circuits, because Zeke is sliding off him and down to his knees, and well. How Dak’s supposed to remember how to form words when Zeke is between his legs, hooking his fingers under Dak’s waistband, is more than Dak can fathom.

“You can inspect my fender later,” Zeke says, all shark-grin in the light from the TV, biting a quick kiss against the inside of Dak’s thigh. “I’ve been waiting to get my mouth on your dick all day.”

“Tell me that wasn’t what you were thinking about when you got in your crash,” Dak says.

Zeke yanks his pants the rest of the way down. “Not gonna lie to you,” he says, and then Dak abruptly ceases caring about anything other than Zeke’s mouth on his dick, eager and hot and perfect. 

Tomorrow they’ll be back on the field, preparing for the biggest football game of their life so far. On Sunday they’ll face the Packers, Cowboys Stadium as loud as it’s ever been. The whole season will be on the line, resting on Dak’s shoulders, in Zeke’s arms. Together they’ll find a way, just like they have all season, two rookies who don’t know any better – don’t know how to temper their dreams, don’t know not to reach for it all, don’t know anything but fighting and fighting and winning.

For now, Dak puts everything out of his mind except Zeke. 

He curls his fingers in Zeke’s hair and tips his head back, flying among the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've never been a Cowboys fan, but Dak & Zeke have won my heart this year. From the [candy wars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4D257i_VEI), to their side-by-side lockers, to Zeke's megawatt smile & his [orange bracelet](http://sportsday.dallasnews.com/dallas-cowboys/cowboys/2017/01/12/cowboys-rb-ezekiel-elliott-made-16-year-old-cancer-patients-year-orange-bracelet) (worn all year to encourage a 16-year-old cancer patient) & his [generous gifts](http://sportsday.dallasnews.com/dallas-cowboys/cowboys/2016/12/23/ezekiel-elliott-gifts-cowboys-offensive-linemen-atvs-christmas) to the Cowboys offensive line, to their adorable joint interviews (each saying the other should win ROTY and MVP, for instance), to the [photobombs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kYTGrAkc2Xc), to Zeke [jumping in the Salvation Army bucket](http://sportsday.dallasnews.com/dallas-cowboys/cowboys/2016/12/20/red-kettle-update-donations-roughly-200000-since-cowboys-rb-ezekiel-elliott-made-deposit) (inspiring $200K worth of donations) - and yeah, the amazing football helps too! 
> 
> Zeke's minor car crash really did happen this Wednesday, and he's fine. The headline he reads is [the real NFL.com headline](http://www.nfl.com/news/story/0ap3000000772748/article/cowboys-ezekiel-elliott-uninjured-in-minor-car-crash). This fic was inspired by his reaction to the crash, as seen in this tweet:
>
>> I'm good. I've been in bigger collisions. Lol
>> 
>> — Ezekiel Elliott (@EzekielElliott) [January 11, 2017](https://twitter.com/EzekielElliott/status/819200717978271751)  
> 
> 
> Finally, the title is a Zeke quote from [this interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxA-gLhT7Uw):
> 
>  **Interviewer:** In this situation that y'all are in right now, how much pressure is that on you?  
>  **Dak:** It's not any pressure to me. We take it one game at a time. I know everybody likes to say that, but I think we truly do in this locker room, and we want to win. We want to win every game, we want to win this one, we want to win that last one. That's just the competitors we are.  
>  **Zeke:** You guys call it pressure, we just call it life, call it reality, you know what I mean. We wouldn't have it any other way. So we love it.


End file.
